


Salt, Paper, Rage

by Vesperchan



Series: Tumblr Shorts [19]
Category: Naruto
Genre: Adventure, BAMF Sakura, Based on several different fairytales, DnD themes, Dragons, Dungeons and Dragons, F/M, Fairytale elements, Itachi is in love with her, One Sided Love, Sakura has magic, Tumblr, Tumblr Ask Box Fic, War Themes, and she's gonna East of the Sun West of the Moon her way to him, it's an adventure, let this lady be a badass, mutual love, sakura has a SWORD, thieves
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-02-09
Updated: 2020-02-16
Packaged: 2021-02-27 19:22:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,772
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22640974
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vesperchan/pseuds/Vesperchan
Summary: Sakura is set on her journey to be the dragon slayer the Uchiha kingdom needs in order to get the recognition she so desperately desires. Along the way, she earns more than she bargained for.
Relationships: Haruno Sakura/Uchiha Itachi
Series: Tumblr Shorts [19]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1228031
Comments: 23
Kudos: 159





	1. Salt

#300, dragon slayer. ItaSaku. I love the image of a BAMF Sakura with a sword and maybe some magic~

-

A dragonslayer is a person or being that slays dragons. Dragonslayers and the creatures they hunt have been popular in traditional stories from around the world: they are a type of story classified as type 300 in the [Aarne–Thompson classification system](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Aarne%E2%80%93Thompson_classification_system).

* * *

“How much has it gone up by?”

The question made the young monk look up from his book keeping. Haku frowned but looked back through the papers on his work table before finding one that related to her question. The top of the page was decorated in fancy scrollwork and the there was the printing of a long black serpent in front of the Ur’all mountains. Underneath the illustration was the listed reward. 

“It is double the original bounty, my lady.” 

Sakura grimaced and tightened the bandage around her calf. She shook her hands free and then grabbed for the breachers to step into. Once she was mostly presentable she pushed aside the tattered curtain and stepped out to see what Haku was talking about. 

“I see that now,” she sighed. “And I bet plenty of people have seen the most recent circulation. That doesn’t give me much time.” 

Haku inhaled sharply. “You can’t leave yet,” he exclaimed. 

He stood to reach for her but Sakura was already applying her iron armor pieces to the respective places on her bandaged body. Her greaves were dirty and dented from where the tusk of the last monster gouged through the metal to her calf, but Haku had pieced it together during the night so that it was wearable again. Sakura doubted it would hold up very well against a dragon though. 

“I’ve slept long enough, it’s time I moved on anyway. I can heal on the way there.”

“That’s not how healing work.”

Sakura just laughed at his panicked expression before reaching for the red layers of her tassets to clip around her waist. Unlike most, her _tassets_ were long enough to almost reach her knees and protected her well from most angles. It made stealth a challenge but Sakura couldn't remember a time where she valued that at the expense of being prepared. She wasn’t a rogue for a reason. 

“I’ll be fine.”

“You’re going to get yourself killed this way. J-just wait until Zabuza or Kisame comes back. I sent word to them when you first arrived. They’ll be here soon,” Haku tried again.

Sakura instead reached for the thickness of her hair and pulled it upwards into a tail that flared out over her fingers. It kept the worst of her long hair out of her eyes and didn’t impede any facial or head armor she chose to don. Haku’s words didn’t seem to slow her down in her donning. 

“You know well enough that the two of them are too many leagues south of this place to traverse so great a distance before I’m ready to leave. Besides, this work is not for either of them.” Sakura grimaced and finished tying up her hair. “I think it would antagonize Zabuza more than anything to hear what I was going after.” 

Haku didn’t respond to that but watched helplessly as Sakura finished her work in readying herself for the road. The last thing she settled on was the silver faced helmet and the heavy black wolf pelt that edged the uppermost section of her traveling cloak. By the time she was finished she was utterly unrecognizable from the beauty who had washed her wounds in Haku’s bath the night before. 

Haku quietly admitted to himself that Zabuza would rightly be agonized if he knew what Sakura was doing and what her intentions were in doing them. Years later and she still hadn’t changed. 

“You don’t know if this will be enough,” Haku said as she reached for her sword. 

Sakura didn’t hesitate, but clipped the half open sheath to her back, practicing with it to make sure she could still draw the long broadsword off her back with the half open sheath. 

“You honestly think anyone would deny me after such a feat?” Sakura teased. 

Haku felt heat in his face. “You shouldn’t need to nearly die fighting a mad dragon for someone to acknowledge your worth-not when there are already people who would...” the words died when he saw her eyes through the slits in her helm. 

There were heavy shadows between the metal ends but when she looked his way he could still see the gleam of emerald, bright with magic and sharp with determination. 

Haku understood what such a look meant without explanation. 

"I will win what I want with my own hands. Thank you for your care, little brother, but I need to be on my way now. Is my horse still in the stables?" 

"He's been fed but the saddlebags aren't filled." He hesitated before asking, "Will you let me fill them for you?" 

Sakura drew him close and held the side of his face in one hand. "Thank you." 

* * *

Three days later Zabuza and Kisame came to the monastery on sweaty horses in dire need of a bath and rest, only to find the guest hall empty once again.

“Where is she going this time?” Kisame asked quietly behind his hand while Zabuza stared at the empty bed where her wounds had been dressed. 

She told me not to tell either of you. She was so angry with me when she woke up and found out I had written to the both of you.” 

“We’re her brothers, of course we should come when she needs us,” Kisame huffed, ignoring the way Zabuza touched the cold pillow. “She should just stop being stubborn and come back home. Where is she now?”

“She knew I’d tell you so do you think she was forthcoming with the details?” Haku huffed. “I don’t know where she is right now, I just know she’s still out there, heading north again.”

“Fire country?” Kisame guessed.

“There are other places to the north,” Haku offered.

“Yeah, but if we’re talking about the same Sakura we both know she’d sooner eat another scorpion before traveling to the Wind Country, and her line of work is not in nearly so much demand anywhere else,” Kisame said with a flip of his hand. 

“You said she was hurt,” Zabuza interrupted. He hadn’t turned around but his voice was low enough to carry regardless of what direction he faced. 

“Not enough to keep her down long,” Haku said.

“Where?”

“Just the calf and it wasn’t deep. She was still able to walk and stand once the bleeding stopped. It didn’t even need stitches.”

“She’s getting worse, biting off more than she can chew to get taken out in the legs,” Zabuza growled. “Idiot.” 

“I said she was fine though.” 

Zabuza jabbed this thumb at the far wall where a collection of glass jars and vials were sorted and arranged. “She wasn’t fine otherwise she wouldn’t have made off with nearly half your painkillers.” 

Haku blinked, recognizing the empty slots on his wall and remembering the money he had found on her bed after her departure. If she had asked he would have told her no, but of course she never asked.

“She...she paid me for those.”

“She ask you for those?” Kisame laughed while Zabuza shot him a hard glare. “Eh, don’t look at me like that, kitten is her own woman now, she can make her bad decisions without your stink eye telling her what to do.”

“Piss yourself and die, fish face,” Zabuza growled lowly, turning around to sit on the edge of her bed and pull at the laces around his leather vambraces. 

“Shit yourself and go first,” Kisame laughed. 

“I’ll go make something for the two of you to eat. You both must be tired after coming all the way out here,” Haku sighed, sounding older. “Let me find something from the kitchens.” 

“For their troubles,” Kisame called, flipping two silver coins at haku’s face before the boy could fully exit. Once they were alone Kisame’s cheerful smile dropped. “Are you going to be like this the whole time?” 

“Sod off.”

“I’ll take that as a yes, then,” Kisame sighed. “You’re such a stick in the mud. Let it go already, old man. She turned you down.” 

“ _Fuck_. Off.” 

Kisame rolled his eyes at his friend's sharp ton and crossed the room to the other side to start peeling off his own hides. He was looking forward to an actual bed and decent meal for the first time in four days since it was apparent their little sister didn’t need their help like Haku made it sound. 

Kisame had a feeling that’s how things were when he first saw the letter, but stubborn old men like Zabuza had a hard time separating their thoughts from reality. 

The fact that Sakura didn’t need him anymore hadn’t stopped hurting any less than it had two years ago. At some point the man had to understand she wasn’t ever going to see him that way, not after being practically raised together since orphancy. 

“She’s only gotten stronger.” 

Zabuza didn’t say anything while Kisame continued to remove his things. A wise man would have stayed quiet, but Kisame enjoyed tormenting his foster brother too much to shut up.

No one had ever accused him of a wise man before. 

“She’s always had a good eye for what she was capable of handling and it's not like we never got hurt on our own jobs. You don’t have to pout over it.” 

Zabuza didn’t reply. 

Unseen, Kisame flipped off his traveling companion and fell backwards into the opposite bed with one arm thrown over his eyes. “Well, whatever. I’m heading back to Mizu the day after tomorrow. I’m too tired to hurry home and Haku’s food was always decent.” 

He heard Zabuza move, but didn’t bother to look up when the door opened and closed. The other swordsman’s footsteps were plenty heavy as they faded down the hallway in the direction of the kitchens. No doubt he would attempt to grill Haku for any additional information on their sister’s activities, status, and intentions. All Zabuza would hear would be what they already knew. 

Sakura was her own woman now and she had her own desires she wanted to struggle for. Kisame hated to see her leave but knew it was what was best for her. It would have been nice if things worked out between her and Zabuza but Sakura wasn’t the type to settle down under another man’s arm, no matter how soft the hands were that cared for her heart. 

She had to find her own way, make her own home, and fight for her own dreams. 

When the hall turned quiet Kisame sat up in bed, paused to listen once more, before sneaking across the room to where Haku kept his manuscripts. There were his holy texts, letters of correspondence, and then there were the notices. Kisame leafed through most of them before he found one he recognized. He saw the black serpent, the mountains, the reward, and then the king’s seal. 

Removing the advertisement from the collection, Kisame folded it seven times then dropped it into the fire, watching the paper catch and burn before Zabuza could come back and turn the room inside out. 

“Good luck, kitten, I hope you get what you want this time around,” Kisame whispered to the greedy flames. 

* * *

_"What do you want?"_

_"You look like you could use some water."_

_"Oh? Is that what you though? You look like a stray wind would blow_ you _over."_

_"I've heard that one before. Please, let me help?"_

_"Why?"_

_"...Because I wish to?"_

Sakura woke and stood, feeling the crackle in the air before could see the first signs of the oncoming procession down the crossroad. The seal on her forehead throbbed under her bangs. 

Her fire was low enough for another log to rekindle the heat she would need to carry her through the rest of the night. Thankfully she had built a small pile of logs in the daylight to serve her in the night. Under the full moon, each piece appeared silver in her hands before the fire turned them a golden red color.

Just as she finished nurturing the new flames the first ghost at the head of the procession glittered into focus. 

Sakura waited off to the side, watching the herald, and then the knights and their dames, forge forward through the trees, followed by lovely court of ladies and lords. Sakura saw the princes and the princesses next, followed by the king and queen and then another grouping of soldiers to guard their rear. 

Senju Hashirama and his lady, the fair Mito from the land of whirlpools were dazzling in their fine robes and dragging jewels, even if everything they wore was outdated and out of fashion by a good two hundred years. The fierceness and confidence they walked with would never go out of style. 

Something stirred in Sakura’s chest when she saw them as they were. It humbled her nearly as much as the first time she had camped out at the crossroads on the anniversary of their great wedding procession. 

Sakura had seen their march six or seven times since then, but never without the same new sense of wonder that bubbled in all small children the first time they saw their heroes. 

Kisame and Zabuza never understood the awe that lived inside of Sakura at the sight of her ancestors even if they had legacies just as storied.

Behind the king and queen was the royal hound master that Sakura picked out immediately. 

Sakura checked her trap and waited until the time was right before lassoing the ghost with gold until he stumbled out of the procession and into her ward writing on the grass. His hounds barked and tried to follow him but before they could reach her Sakura closed the tinderbox and held it up. 

The first hound stopped short and snarled while the king, queen, and all their court moved on. All three howled at her.

“Release our master, witch!”

“Release him,”

“Release!”

All three were as big as horses with teeth sharpened into healthy points. One was collared with a bronze gorget, the second with a silver torque, and the last with a bright and intricate golden collar that was tipped in points like the stem of a rose bush. One each their names were inscribed somewhere:

_**SALT** _

_**PAPER  
** _

_**RAGE** _

Sakura held the tinderbox closer and shook her head, fighting against the tremble in her hands and heart at the sight of such monstrous hounds. Nothing short of ancient magic would bind them into her service. “Not until you have paid what I am due for his freedom.” 

The second and third hound howled in agony while the first one growled low so that his hackles stood on end. Sakura could smell the blood on his breath when it snapped at her. “What trickery is this I smell! Unhand him now.”

“Not until what is due to me is paid,” Sakura insisted. The procession was nearly gone. The lords and ladies had twinkled out and the princesses were more glimmer than ghost. “I trapped him fairly.” 

“You are a devious one. No one of such vile blood may take the services of our master for themselves,” one of the dogs barked.

“I may be vile, but it’s not my blood that makes me so. I could not have bound this man any other way. You are ghosts to a long lost era, a fallen kingdom barely kept alive in song and myth. If your kingdoms were truly so great I wouldn’t have any of these scars.” 

The first one lowered his head and sniffed loudly as the king and queen vanished. Only a few knights remained. The other two dogs began to sniff loudly, following the alpha’s lead. 

“A Senju!” their leader exclaimed. “How can this be?”

Sakura exhaled, feeling less on edge now that their hackles were gone and her blood passed inspection. It had been so many generations since the Senju were well known that she wondered if she had enough in her veins to sway a few of her ancestor’s ghosts. The Senju hadn’t been anything to brag about since after Tobirama passed on his rights to Sarutobi the unwise. 

“You are ghosts and the great Senju lineage fell many years ago, but before that it was worse than a memory,” Sakura exclaimed softly to the three hounds. “My parents and their parents never had the luxury of a sudden downfall, only the gradual decline. Still, I have need of your services.” 

The first hound sat on his haunches and the other two followed, one laying down completely. “You are our princess, we will serve you gladly.” 

Something in Sakura’s gut jumped at the title. She wasn’t a princess, and to most eyes she was barely a girl. Her hands were too rough and her smile was too sharp to be pretty. Her eyes still had magic in their color and the sword she wore made her into something more than human. It had been a long time since someone complimented her one something other than her skill. 

“ _Your eyes are an extraordinary journey all on their own_.” 

_"Don't tell me pretty lies."_

_"I thought you could tell when someone lied to you?"_

Sakura had to swallow and remind herself where she was to solidify her focus. Her heart still fluttered like a dying bird in her chest but she found some measure of peace through sheer force of will. “Thank you. I accept your service gladly.” 

“What need have you of us?” the alpha asked, reaching out to sniff at her cowl once more.

He was close enough for her to touch so she did, running her fingers through the fur under his collar until he sighed in satisfaction. The others whined to be touched too. 

“I am planning on slaying a dragon.” 


	2. Paper

It wasn't a distraction, it was _necessary_. 

At least that’s what Sakura told herself as she sat down in the shade and ate her favorite bread. Cheese, garlic, and spices made her tongue tingle in delight. 

Sitting under the same tree and eating the same bread, Shikamaru sighed. 

“Don’t look at me like that,” Sakura complained. “I told you this plan would work.”

“You didn’t mention stuffing your face.”

“Why are you complaining about my face?”

“Cause that’s not what you are supposed to be doing. You said you needed my family’s bridle for something important but you’re leisurely enjoying a picnic with your dog.”

Sakura licked a sprinkling of salt off her thumb and glared over her knuckles at Shikamaru. He didn’t flinch under her gaze like others of his station would. “What is with you? Shika, you’re the laziest boy under thirty I know and you never complain about sitting around to waste time and eat but you’ve been more temperamental than a girl coming of age. What is your problem with me?” 

Shikamaru had enough decency to avert his gaze when he answered her. He didn’t blush in any way that mattered but Sakura still caught the way his ears turned with color. They had known each other long enough to know where to look to see the cracks in their respective masks that hid their emotions from view. 

“I’ve been agitated with a great many things lately.” 

“When is that new?”

Shikamaru plucked at a leaf on his lapel and tossed it gently to the side, watching it fall while he spoke. “You might recall that I was promoted most recently? I’m working directly under the prime minister now. It’s troublesome from dawn until dusk yet you think I’ll drop it all and come running if you just call.” 

“But you did.”

Shikamaru looked up to glare. “It was a matter of paying one’s debt. Don’t insert any illusion of personal feeling into this. I’m here because I need to be.”

“You don’t need to be such an ass about it,” Sakura grumbled, stuffing the rest of her bread into her mouth. She reached for the table and plucked one more roll from the platter, watching as it was magically replenished thanks to the magic of her first hound Salt. When she wished it, she could call for him and he’d bring her the gift of a feast of kings. It was his unique ability among the trivium of hounds now in her service. 

The other two had their own abilities and traits, but Sakura was wary of utilizing either of them until the day and hour she needed them most. At present, her greatest need was the capture of an enchanted steed that could only be lured with the food Sakura had told Salt to summon on his next table. 

_ ‘A black boned rooster’s blood seasoned with parsley, sage, rosemary, and thyme.’  _

Anyone could mount a simple steed and ride it to the dragon’s dwelling in a few days time, but Sakura didn’t want a simple steed. She wanted something that could fight alongside her and her dogs, she wanted a Kirin, a black  _ Kirin _ . 

Shikamaru grumbled, swiping another plate of meat off the table for himself. Like Sakura’s bread, the plate replaced itself on the table with magic. 

“It’s a lot of trouble you’re going through for one stupid animal,” he complained. “Why bother with any of this?” 

Sakura made a face, looking surprised. Shikamaru wasn’t stupid and he knew her better than most outside of her family, so the reason he asked his question was less motivated by the desire for an answer and more so spurred on by the need to stimulate conversation-which was one of his least favorite things to do. 

“I’m sure we’ve had this conversation before,” Sakura answered, tone low and drawn out. She watched him for any sign or reaction, anticipating one. “You know why I’m set on this quest. The king promised up to half his kingdom for the head of this dragon.”

“Doesn’t mean he’ll give you his son.”

Sakura broke her bread in half and it splintered noiselessly. She didn’t answer Shikamaru and he didn’t repeat himself. 

With a table in front of them and plenty of open space, the pair sat under the shade and ate their meat and bread, keeping more company with their thoughts than each other. 

In time her hands became empty and the table began to look less and less appetizing as the fullness of her belly betrayed the seduction of more food. It had been hours and once more the Black Kirin had not appeared. Next time she would have to try deeper in the forest, or maybe somewhere with higher elevation.

“We should head back. I’ll have no more luck today. I apologize for wasting your time. Leave the bridle with me and you may return to your family and responsibilities,” Sakura said as she stood and brushed crumbs off her lap. 

“What about the Nara you need to swing the bridle in the first place?” he asked as he followed her up.

“I didn’t say it had to be you, Shikamaru.” 

He huffed loudly, sounding even more annoyed than before. “You’re going to hold it against me for being honest?” 

“I’m not going to force a friend to give up his days when it pains him to even sit in the shade beside me. I have so few friends left in the world, I’d-” Sakura’s words stoped and she turned to keep Shikamaru from seeing her face as she knelt beside the table. “I’m not going to force you to come out with me if you don’t want to.” 

Shikamaru’s shoulders sagged. “I…didn’t mean it like that you troublesome woman. Just realize already that people say things because they care about what happens to you. What you’re doing isn’t worth it.”

“Why not?” She turned to face him, ignoring the table. When she stood she was nearly eye level with him, something most women couldn’t boast to be, but Sakura wasn’t most women. “Tell it to me plainly, Nara.” 

Shikamar rocked back on his heels, looking her over once more with a critical eye before reaching for something in his pockets to chew on. “There aren’t many talented sword wielding adventurers in the world who are worth their weight in song but there are plenty of princes. Just because of a title it’s silly to believe you should have to work to win him over.” 

“I’m not wining him over, I’m winning a title so that I can have the rights to ask for his hand in marriage. I know my worth, but I also know how the world works. Besides all that, what’s the point of all this if none of it brings my soul joy.”

Shikamaru stopped patting at his pockets, giving up on his quest to find some chewing bark. “He brings you joy?” he echoed, sounding disbelieving. “Does he know that?” 

“Yes!” she exclaimed suddenly, louder than she meant to be. She flinched at her own volume and then tried again, in a voice more subdued. “Yes, he knows how I feel and I know how he feels. He’s dedicated to his kingdom and honorable. It would rip his heart in two if I tried to take him from his home so forcibly-no matter what he says to the contrary.” 

“What about your heart. You’re a warrior but you’d give it all up to wear a dress and make pretty Uchiha babies for the simpering court?” Shikamaru asked. 

Sakura curled her fingers and then stretched them out like a reflex. What Shikamaru had just suggested was the last thing she wanted, but they both knew she could endure any trial or challenge if it was something her heart was set on. It would just be too much of a shame in Shikamaru’s opinion. He admired so few heroes after all. 

“Why do you love him?”

The question made her flush. “You expect me to answer?” 

“Yes, say it in a way I can understand. I’ve been your friend for years. I see the joy on your face at tourneys, I know all your songs, I’ve seen your hunts, you are not made for the simple things of this earth.” Shikamaru took a step closer to her and Sakura didn’t retreat. “It would be too easy to be another wife and mother, but you’re more than that. Why give it up?”

Sakura braced one wrist on the hilt of her short sword, the one dangling off her hip, and tried to find the words, but all she had were memories and feelings. 

“We met during Winter Tide. Have I told you this?” 

“Not in so many words.” 

Sakura looked to the table and shook her head, walking away from it to sit under a different tree, further away. Shikamaru followed her, reclining in the shade and abandoning his plans to pack up for home. 

“Winter Tide, we were invited into the great hall after that nonsense with the Gren-Hide creature. It had been a victory for my people but you know I had done so little I didn’t feel like celebrating. I was still young then and a bit stupid so I snuck out to be alone while the others partied. 

_ "What do you want?"  _

_ "You look like you could use some water."  _

_ "Oh? Is that what you thought? You look like a stray wind would blow you over."  _

_ "I've heard that one before. Please, let me help?"  _

_ "Why?"  _

_ "...Because I wish to?" _

Sakura nearly burned from the memory of how she snapped at the eldest prince, angry at him perceiving any trace of supposed weakness in her after such a lack luster hunt. He hadn’t barked back at her though, hadn’t left her either. 

He brought his water skin closer to her and when she didn’t pull away he touched the edge of it to her lips and let her tilt it up to drink from. When she finished she handed it back to him and he drank as well, watching her over the rim without breaking eye contact. She had thought that bold for a ‘proper’ prince even if it was the sort of expected behavior of her brothers and friends. 

She had kissed boys before, she had shared drinks with many more, but she hadn’t ever felt so unsettled by the eyes of another like she had with Itachi Uchiha. He looked at her like he saw all the way through her silver armor and black furs. He looked at her like he could touch her heart through all that blood and bone and skin. 

It was like magic.

So of course she splashed what was left of his water skin in his face and shoved past him to rejoin Kisame and Zabuza in the main hall. When the second pince returned later in the night with a new shirt no one noticed but her. 

He had made a point to smile at her across the room and touch the collar of his new shirt. None of her charms or wards burned, so there was no spell working to his smile or his eyes, but her heart hammered again. 

That should have been the end of it, but then there were the campaigns in the summer to tame more of the nomadic tribes that trespassed onto the Uchiha lands to sack for resources. They weren't monsters but mercenaries couldn’t afford to be picky, so Sakura lent the Uchiha her blade once more. 

More than once she had seen the prince from afar, surrounded by the dark armored men who were knights in his country. Like magic he always seemed to know when she was looking at him and like magic he would turn and smile her way to set her heart hammering again. 

Some nights he would come to their tents to thank them for their service while they ate around the fire. Kisame never cared while Zabuza complained about pampered princes who never even left the flanks during skirmishes with the enemy. Sakura watched without speaking until he left but always went to bed a bit later, haunted by the heat in her chest and thrill in her mind. 

The campaign lasted the entire summer and culminated in a thank you banquet during harvest time. 

“I remember,” Shikamaru interjected. 

Sakura blinked, remembering how she wasn’t alone. When she looked his way he was smirking in a way that made her groan. 

“It’s kind of hard to forget one of the only times I saw you wear a dress. It was-”

“Horrible,” Sakura interjected.

Shikamaru hiss a short laugh and nodded along. “It was pretty bad, yeah. It wasn’t-oh yeah you looked like you raided my grandmother’s crypt.”

“I didn’t have anything else!”

“I didn’t say it was your fault. Considering what you usually wear I didn’t expect anything extraordinary,” Shikamaru said. “But the worse was how out of place you looked. Anyone who saw you could tell you didn’t want to be there.” 

“I did.”

“Nah, not really. You just wanted to see that guy. It’s different.” 

Sakura ducked her head and remembered the way Kisame teased her, laughing loudly at the ill fitting dress and messy hair after she had tried to style it herself in the manner of all the high class capital ladies. The result had been worthy of his laughter. 

Zabuza had been cold to her and disapproving of the whole idea. If she was dressed as a lady she would have to sit at the tables for the women and he didn’t think it was worth it to get seperated over. He blamed her, saying she didn’t care about her family anymore and if she wanted to she could stay in the capital to turn into a doll while they traveled back to their home country. 

Even if he had apologized for his harshness later on it still stung. 

Sakura knew she wasn’t a true lady, but she had hoped wearing a dress and doing up her hair might make her feel like one, but all it did was make her feel like a joke. 

“Sakura.” She looked up when she heard him call her name and saw Shikamaru frowning. His voice was softer for her when he spoke again. “Don’t take it so poorly.”

Sakura refolded her arms and dug her nails into her own chainmail to feel something. “The only one who didn’t say anything about how I looked in a dress was him. Did you know that?” 

“He’s a prince. He’s been bred on honey words.”

“Maybe, but he spared them for me.” 

“Is that why you think you’re in love with him? Because he was sweet to you? Anyone could be kind, Sakura. Maybe you’re not used to it because of your work and lifestyle.”

Sakura dropped her arms. “You’re not wrong to assume I hear too few sweet things with what I do and how I live, but it’s not just that. It’s been years of aching for the same damn person. It’s been countless nights of heartache, and too many curses for how soft he’s turned me. I wish I didn’t feel like this or know whatever this damn sensation is, but I do and I...Shikamaru I can’t put it into words.”

“Try.” 

“It would be easier to tame a wyvern.”

“You’ve done that before, no excuses,” he gently chastised. “Please, I want to hear it from you. I hate that you’re doing this for someone who doesn’t even try half as hard to look at you. It’s not fair.” 

“He’s the first born prince and I’m a foreigner, that’s to be expected, Shika.” 

He didn’t say anything immediately to that, but he reached for her hand and pulled it free to hold. “You are my dear friend, Sakura, and what’s more you are a hero to my house and an idol in my eyes. I hate to hear you speak so lowly of yourself. He’s just a prince, there are dozens of those. There is only one Stonebreaker.” 

Sakura chuckled under her breath. “Actually, there are plenty of heroes with that title if you consider the songs from neighboring countries.”

“Not who are alive and none who are my friend. Sakura, you’re worth more than this self depreciation. If he can’t see that-”

“He does.”

Shikamaru went quiet but watched her with an expression that encouraged an explanation.

Sakura remembered walking in the dark, away from the tents and hearing the way someone weaker than her cried from behind the trees and bushes his knights would never think to look. She didn’t have enough grace to look away or pretend she didn’t hear, so when he heard her footsteps and saw her silvered by pale moonlight she stayed where she was. 

He had told her he was fine and she had told him she could tell when people lied to her, all the mercenaries skilled enough to survive longer than their first year in the Bloody Mist could. 

He had apologized for his unsightly behavior and she had pressed into his hand a cloth meant for cleaning blades since it was the only thing she had that was soft enough to wipe tears off his face. 

She didn’t ask why he had been crying since the reason was mostly obvious. They had lost a significant chunk of their mounted calvary because of a surprise attack earlier in the day and several of his war generals were upset at him for not relying on their scouts in a rookie mistake. Itachi was brilliant in his own ways, but military strategy wasn’t one of them. 

‘ _ They told you to send the mercenaries out to the front, why didn’t you?’  _

_ ‘It’s not right to treat you like slaughter fodder.’ _

_ ‘Don’t think so little of me, prince. I won’t die here and my family will survive whatever surprises we encounter on these. Just put me on the front _ .’

But he hadn’t until after the second great loss and his voice was overwhelmed by those of his war generals. More of the mercenaries died in the third attack but Sakura stood throughout it all beside Kisame and Zabuza, making it out just like she said she would. 

When they came back to camp covered in blood and gore Kisame made a point of dousing himself with a barrel of water in front of everyone so they could see how the blood just washed off and realize none of it was his. Someone cursed at him for wasting water but he just threw the barrel at them and laughed. Zabuza and Sakura were no worse off and both made out with less than minor injuries. 

Sakura never mentioned how anything she suffered had a habit of healing four to five times faster thanks to her Senju lineage. 

The way he looked at her after the came back was a feeling she would chase for the rest of her life, into dragon dens and across forign lands until the last of her life drained away. 

Sakura’s musings cut short as the world around her went quiet. She pulled away from Shikamara and drew her short sword, crouching low in the short grasses. Shikamaru took a step back, looking for the source of her apprehension but she had reacted to the nothing.

A forest was always whispering and breathing with life from the wind to the animals and the insects. When it wasn’t, there was a reason to worry.

The trees seemed to shiver and part as the sky went overcast. Heavy clouds blocked out the sun and shaded the clearing enough for a black hooved chimerical creature to step out from between the trees. 

It stopped and regarded the table with wide unblinking eyes of pure molten gold. The freckles down his neck glowed with the same molten sheen as he moved. Sakura could taste burnt ozen in her mouth when she inhaled. 

“The Bridle,” she whispered, but Shikamaru was already prepared and ready. 

The Kirin bent down to eat the black chicken and that’s when Sakura spring, racing to startle the creature into discharging a burst of electricity into her sword. It burned Sakura’s hands but she caught it all and deflected it skyward like a lightning rod-the curse of her blade screamed in protest but she readied to do it once more, ignoring the way her fingers bled.

One burst was all it got before Shikamaru was out and slipping the golden bridle around the creature’s neck, expertly missing it’s arching antlers with the skill of someone raised in the Nara deer forest. 

Sakura ran to grab hold of the fastened bridle and held fast while it bucked and screamed, crackling with wild, gold lightning. Around it’s shoulders and flanks storm clouds began to gather, but Sakura didn’t let up. 

Shikamaru called her name but she shoved him aside in time to miss a stray bolt of lightning. He ran for the trees while she wrestled the mystical beast down onto its knees. Her fingers bled over the reigns but she didn’t let up, and with a cry she forced the face of the Kirin to the ground and the rest of the body followed.

“Submit to me!” she roared, making the earth tremble. 

It screamed one last long whistle sound that echoed high and far before it calmed into a tired sort of submission. 

The forest went quiet. 

It was the most she could hope for. 

“Master, do you desire the table any longer?” Salt asked, manifesting at her side a moment later. Sakura looked up at the dog from where she panted in the dirt, knees bruised and half buried. 

* * *

The ruins at the base of the mountain were set to chattering as the ruffians and thieves who made their home on broken thrones discussed the latest gossip. 

“Another five knights, each a different color, had gone up the mountain on Monday and not been seen since.”

“Nothing left of them now, not even their bones.”

“They weren't a lot to look at in the first place.”

“There were five of them.”

“We’ve seen troops of two dozen at a time make the climb. Numbers don’t mean nothing.’ 

Sai listened quietly, keeping his head down while he ate. He had been stationed at the thieve’s Nest for four months now and nothing seemed to excite them like stories of the dragon who lived at the crest of the mountain. During the warm season plenty of would-be heroes set off to try their luck and few came back. Occasionally someone would see the dragon before it saw them and that’s when they raced back down the mountain in their piss-dried pants with their life exchanged for their dignity. Those were the bandit’s favorite. 

“What about the short pass? What did you see there?”

“A fucking badass!” Hidan roared, standing up with his drink. Several others around the cultist groaned, recognizing the early signs of a tangent. Hidan swore again and threw his tankard at the loudest one to complain. 

“It was a single individual,” Kakuze elaborated, “But they were well equipped.” 

“How so?” one of the younger lads asked.

“Magic, that’s the fuck how you piss ant! You, get me another drink already, who do I hafta kill fer some service around here?” Hidan roared, climbing onto the top of the table with his bare feet. Someone loudly complained about the smell and dirt but Hidan just kicked them in the face for it, cursing some more. 

“That’s not confirmed. We only know they had a magical steed,” said Kakuzu. “But it was more than what the others had.”

“They had balls and magic,” Hidan laughed, stealing a fresh tankard from someone. “They took the shortest pass directly into that fiery fucker’s lair and they had their ‘look at me’ magic to boot. You said it yourself, they’d be there by sundown.” 

“It’s past sundown! Does that mean they made it already?” someone asked in excitement, already standing up from the table.

“As if,” Sasori huffed, glaring at how loud Deidara could get. “You forget that some people actually take the time to -”

“I see it!” someone from the upper levels shouted.

There was a loud whoop and then several bodies rushed for the stairs to watch the lightshow, Deidara at the forefront. No one bothered to look back at how Sasori who fumed in agitation from being ignored and cut off. 

Sai set his mug down and climbed up the long way, pulling himself up into an empty window to dangle one leg free over the side while the dark sky split with dragon fire.    
There was a flash of gold light and then the loud, long echo of angry thunder that had the thieves all screaming in delight. Dragon fire was always a nice show to enjoy but anytime there was something new it was a true delight. 

“What is that?”

“Magic lightning, hell yes! Another drink!”

There was more lightning and even more cheers as the shadows of a dragon darted through its own smoke and set the night sky on fire. The thunder rumbled loud and long, creating its own clouds of destruction. 

Then a portion of the mountain exploded and crumbled! Deidara just about lost his shit alongside Hidan. Even Pein and Konan came over to the wall to watch. 

“What the hell is going on over there?” Sasori complained. 

“An actual challenge,” Deidara snorted. “They’re tearing up the mountain. Look at that!”

There was another cheer as the gold lightning streaked across the side and flashed for the onlookers a split second image of the dragon’s body frozen in mid bite.The next lightning strike showed the dragon twisting away. 

Sai wasn’t sure how well the others could see from so far away, but thanks to his own unique background, Sai was able to see far more than the average man. He saw the Black Kirin, he saw the warrior with a buster blade just as long as him, he saw the wounds on the dragon’s hide, and he saw the white wolfhound that snapped an eyeball in half with his bloodstained maw. 

“What’s going on now?”

“I can’t see through the smoke.”

“Something is flashing but is it dragon fire or lightning?” 

“Move, I wanna see!” 

Almost an hour later the flames and lightning thinned until there was less and less. Sai couldn’t see through the smoke and the bandits around him began to argue about sending a scout up the mountain to see the results of the battle. Some thought it was worth the risk, others said it would be no different this time around. 

Pein said he would sleep and they could decide what to do in the morning once the sun was up and the smoke was gone.

So Sai slept along with all the others, but only for a few hours. 

He snuck out before the sun could crest over the horizon and flew up the side of the mountain, taking the long way around so no one would be able to see him coming. He had hours before anyone noticed him missing and hours more before anyone cared. There had been too much excitement last night to remember one little rat. 

He crested the plateau on the back of his ink hawk and slipped off its wing to roll through the ash and rubble, coating his form in the familiar elements and mask his natural scent.

There was no sound and the air was heavy and stale. There was still a taste to every inhale that settled deep in his lungs. Sai kept low and snuck behind the rocks and boulders that survived until he was close enough to see into the den. 

Sunlight only illuminated so much, but it was enough to see the hulking figure of an uncoiled dragon with wings extended. Under its claws were the bodies of old and young would-be heroes in a myriad of different colors and crests. Resting against its neck with a sword half buried in the ground like a grave marker the hero in black furs and silver armor lay immobile against the dragon’s scales.

So much of the ground was broken, cracked, burned, and stained with blood the color of midnight in summer. It was hard to see everything and not be overwhelmed. Sai didn’t know where to look first. 

There was a shuffle and one of the white furred wolf dogs emerged from behind the dragon while another looked up from where it had been dozing behind a bolder out of sight. The black Kirin chirped from somewhere out of sight. 

The hero lifted its head and looked around, their hand lazily reaching for the hilt of their sword. Sai took a half step back and saw from his new perspective the severed end of the dragon’s neck. Mere inches away the rest of the head lay, eyes torn free and tong limp over its own fangs. 

He didn’t wait to be noticed by the third hound, but hurried back out of sight, past the boulders and down the trail until he was safe enough to rest for a moment and catch his breath. 

Only when he was sure he wasn’t being pursued did he take the time to pull out a sheet of long waxed paper and write a few simple words that would make sense to the right person upon arrival. He wrote his sentence, summoned an ink raven, and sent off his message before scaling down the rest of the mountain. 

* * *

The dragon’s head was enormous but thankfully her steed was strong. Everything else she wanted to take with her went into her bag of holding, safe until later on when she wished to retrieve it from the magical void it all disappeared into.

There was enough gathered treasure, fine blades, and masterly crafted sets of armor to make a pretty penny off of once she got back down and into a nice marketplace. People had tried paying tribute to the dragon with gold and treasure at one point, only to have it end up forgotten in the dark of its den. 

She tied the cloaks of lesser knights together and made something she could drag the head on without worrying about its size. Salt, Paper, and Rage trotted alongside her as she made her way down the mountain, happy to be out and about even if none of them were clean. Sakura suspected they enjoyed the look of blood on their fur too much, but couldn’t fault them for it. She was no better. 

“Where to next?” Salt cheerfully barked.

“Somewhere to rest first. I’m more exhausted than I thought I’d be and I need to sleep deeply,” Sakura said around another yawn.

“We can protect you while you sleep!” Paper exclaimed.

“I should hope so,” Sakura hummed back. “But Kisame has friends nearby I can take refuge with for the right price. While I sleep under their roof you can guard my form.”

“Agreeable,” Rage barked before running off ahead of the others to scare off anyone who might also be on the road. 

Almost a day later and twice as sore, Sakura made her way back down the mountain, dragging the severed head in fur and fabric behind her on a black kirin. 

The ruins of the fallen Whirlpool kingdom were a ghost of their former glory, but there was beauty there for those who knew where to look. Older than even the Senju lineage, the Uzamaki had been powerful but foolish heroes from a long lost era. They trusted too many too easily and after only a handful of generations decomposed into legend. 

Sakura rode through the skeleton of their main city, approaching the epicenter where the Akatsuki made their camp. She saw the lookouts and didn’t bother flinching when they ran off to warn her arrival. 

Before the gutted archways and empty gates a small gathering of cloaked figures stood up to meet her. She recognized most based off of Kisame’s stories, but had only seen the one named Kakuzu from a distance many years ago when she had been thinner and less learned. 

Their false leader stepped forward, ahead of Nageto. Pein threw back the hood of his cloak and raised a hand to stop her. 

“Who are you to come to my hall, traveler?” 

Sakura pulled the medallion from her neck and tossed it across the way. The one named Deidara jumped out to catch it and inspect the stamped steel. He whistled low and then flicked it over to Pein for inspection. 

“Kisame’s ward?” Pein said loud enough to hear. 

“I’d believe that,” Hidan laughed, pointing to her sword. “The cur looks like a devil fish too.”

“The dogs are new,” Kakuzu said, watching Sakura oddly. She thought maybe he remembered her from so many years ago, or if it was only second hand information that informed his speech. 

Beside him, Hidan sputtered.

“You know him? Why didn’t you tell us Kisame was raising a badass? We could have been recruiting a dragon slayer.” 

“Are they a dragon slayer?” Sasori asked, sounding board from further back in the crowd. Like many of the members he was dressed in a general’s uniform and was giving a large berth. 

Sakura looked the rest of the crowd over, knowing there were far more hiding in the shadows and the cracks with their crossbow bolts and arrows. She had walked into the heart of their territory and they had met her at the gates. 

Beside Nageto his wife Konan stood, watching intently with clear cut eyes and a well trained expression that betrayed none of her thoughts. Her husband was a bit more open with his expressions, but that was to be expected considering his lineage as a Uzamaki. The other man on her opposite side was also an Uzamaki with bright orange hair Sakura remembered hearing about, a man called Yahiko who was, according to rumors, a consort to Konan. Sakura wasn’t sure how that worked since Zabuza got upset at Kisame for spilling that detail during their fireside chats but Kisame had only laughed the rest of her questions off, claiming it wasn’t his business to blab anymore. 

She was beautiful enough for two husbands. Sakura felt a stab of envy in her chest for the fierce woman with eyes like jewels. 

Sakura blinked hard to help stay awake and alert before slipping one leg behind her and sliding off her steed. The Kirin chirped and paced as she ran her hand down its back before walking around to the burden it pulled. She heard the shuffle of feet as several members stepped forward to better see what she would reveal. Sakura grabbed at the furs and pulled them free from their knots, dropping them so that the mutilated head of the dragon became visible. 

The one with white hair, Hidan, cursed loudly and then started laughing. Several others complained and Sakura noticed an exchange of money from two in the back. Kakuzu sounded smug when he told the redhead, Sasori, he accepted coin as well as goods. 

“Your name, friend,” Pein called out, stepping forward. “And what can we do for you?” 

Around Sakura her three hounds circled, but she bid them settle while she undid the clasp under her chin and tugged at her helmet. “I was hoping for a place to lay low for the next couple of days before finishing with my travels. I’ve my own food and plenty to spare. I’ll not be the worst guest you take in.” 

“And your name?” Kakzue echoed. 

Sakura pulled her helmet free and shook her hair out until it settled around her face. She smiled and the tint of dragon blood still stained her canines. “You can just call me Sakura for now.” 

She heard someone swear and then Hidan announced loudly, “Fuck, she’s hot!”

A couple of days turned into a week and Sakura found herself enjoying the company of several Akatsuki than she meant to.

They had work they invited her to help out with, they never seemed to run out of stories so long as she kept feeding them with Salt’s magic banquet, and more than once she had been surprised with the personal histories. 

Kakuzu had lived four full lifetimes thanks to magic he wouldn’t explain to her, but he remembered being a boy and seeing the Senju on the battlefield. He told her about them and Sakura felt like a child all over again.

“Hashirama was loud, one of the loudest fighters I’ve ever witnessed while his younger brother was as deadly as a knife in the night. Both exemplary warriors in their own right." 

"And they had magic as well?"

"In their one way, yes. I’m sure you take after both of them.” 

Sasori and Deidara were an entertaining duo, even if they could get on her nerves after too many arguments.

Hidan tried on more than one occasion to join her magics with his and advance the kindling of Jashin’s fire, as he explained it. He served one of the old gods, one from the old languages and Sakura knew enough to know she was better off with her hands out of that sort of business. Necromancy was the type of unbecoming her own nature could not abide by. 

When wine made her too honest one night she had confessed her motives for killing the dragon were love for a boy she could otherwise never touch only to be laughed at by the other thieves at the table. She almost laughed too, but then Konan broke a plate over Deidara’s head and threw a shard at another squealing boy. With a protective snarl she dragged Sakura up from the table and into the back of the ruins where she roomed. 

“I thought it was funny too,” Sakura slurred honestly. 

“Then why are you crying, child?” Konan asked, touching Sakura’s tears. 

Sakura ducked her head and covered her face, laughing and crying through all her thoughts and feelings while Konan guided her to a lady’s vanity. There she brushed out Sakura’s hair and braided it back. It wasn’t the latest style, but it suited a warrior like Sakura. Each stoke helped calm Sakura and settle her hurts into something she could deal with. Shyly, she apologized for showing Konan such an immature side. 

“Love should never be something you apologize for. It is the most noble of all heartaches my dear,” she told Sakura. 

The room was quiet while Konan worked on another section of hair that folded up into the pattern of braids she had woven around Sakura’s skull. It was in the quiet Sakura felt safe enough to confess her darker fears. “I’m scared to go back. What if he doesn’t want me?” 

Konan rubbed a circle into Sakura’s back. “Then he is a fool and not worth your tears. You can come back here and marry Pein, or Sasori. He’s been nothing but a brat to you but from our perspective he’s never been this aware of another life form before.”

“Is that supposed to mean something?” 

Konan chuckled. “For Sasori, yes, but he’s too pretty for his personality so you’re better off with my brother, but that’s only if you can’t snag yourself a prince.”

Sakura inhaled and rubbed at her face, wishing she wasn’t as light in her bones as she was. Alcohol made her sappy but never sloppy. “I should head out soon. I’ve been here too long.” 

“If you feel that way, yes, but you are always welcome here on your own merits now. Kisame was too selfish to keep you to himself. I’m going to miss having another women with sense to talk to.” 

Sakura laughed honestly and opened her mouth to say something more but stopped when she heard the commotion outside. Konan tugged Sakura up and together they exited the room and made their way down to the main hall where a messenger was guzzling down water and still panting. Hidan was swearing and Deidara was yelling back at him for something. 

“What’s going on?” Pein asked, interrupting the chaos. The noise died down enough so everyone could hear when the messenger regained his breath and spoke. 

“The Uchiha kingdom has fallen. Danzo has usurped the throne.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For being an ItaSaku endgame story there isn't a lot of romance and I'm sorry about that, but I swear it's coming! I had a lot of fun with this chapter.

**Author's Note:**

> More for February is for Fairytales! This one an ItaSaku three piece fic smoeone requested on anon! I hope to have it done before next week comes and goes but dang if I'm terrible at getting things done. I wanted it to be another huge oneshot but then I went-no, that'll kill me and I need to sleep-so you're getting your ItaSaku in installments.  
> I had a lot of fun writing this one and it sort of developed on its own the more I wrote. Themes were borrowed from Hans Christian Andersen's The Tinderbox, and Andrew Lang's version of The Three Dogs with dragon slayer elements from all over. 
> 
> Enjoy!


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